


Songs That Seem Like They're About Love (And So Is This One)

by Taupefox59



Series: And By "Love" I Meant "Murder" [2]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: And they're contract killers., Cunnilingus, Everything is the Same, Except Anders and Mitchell are cis women, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Femslash, Femslash February, Hotel Sex, Little differences., Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Small changes., Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, Y'know., You probably won't even be able to tell.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6020893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>uh...</p><p>Sex, actually.</p><p>Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin.</p><p>Attempts at witty banter included for free!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs That Seem Like They're About Love (And So Is This One)

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up where [chapter 4 ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3965557/chapters/9056566) of 'Bang Bang (My Baby Had To Go)'
> 
> If you recognize anything, it's because I decided to include some of that chapter. (To pretend this wasn't...*entirely* just sex?)
> 
> A deep thanks to *all* of the people who read this for me, and the countless, endlessly kind people who actually answered me when I came at them with very specific questions about showerheads, or were forced to hear me whinge about the lack of euphemisms for lady business.
> 
> Warning: This is a little bit still 'under construction'.
> 
> But... I've been working on it for almost exactly a year, and tonight seemed like a good time to post it up.
> 
> Any errors left are my own, so if you catch anything, please let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A Relevant vocabulary note:

Plisky: 1. (noun) a mischievous trick; practical joke; prank.  
2\. (adjective) mischievous; playful.

 

“Hi,” Anders said, “I noticed you didn’t have a drink.”

A dark eyebrow raised, but Anders got no response.

“You’re hot.”

“You’re forward.” Xena said.

“I don’t see the point in small talk when I know what I want.”

“And what would that be?”

Anders glared at her for a moment, before pointing to the dance floor that was slowly filling up with people who had gotten used to moving in suits as they awkwardly tried to remember how dance in their Casual-Friday attire. Men seemed to be dressed in a horrifying clash of hawaiian print shirts and women used to skirts and slacks were reacquainting themselves with constricting denim. “I want to get out of here before the band decides everyone is drunk enough to start singing along with Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“And that plan somehow involves bringing me wine?”

“The way I see it, you’re the only thing around here worth doing.” Anders said simply.

Mitchell stared at the woman in front of her.  _ Damn her! _ After managing to successfully avoid Plisky for  _ days _ , there she was, with wine, and that smile, and those eyes, and the bluntest pick-up lines that Mitchell had ever heard. She was  _ funny _ and Mitchell knew she shouldn’t even be thinking about it. She should be saying no, and giving Plisky back the wine glass and going up to her room. 

But… but her target had actually admitted to being less than enthused with software programming and actually  _ wanted _ to go back to her old position. Mitchell’s job was essentially done. It hardly even counted as an extraction. She’d booked them a private jet, and cleared the airline staff with mob security, and at that point was just waiting for the conference to  _ end _ already so she could collect her paycheck. 

Mitchell was bored, and tired, and, if she was willing to be honest with herself, she was  _ lonely _ . She was making bad decisions, and she knew it, but faced with Plisky - this bizarre, blunt, beautiful woman who smelled like early mornings in the summer - she stopped thinking about  _ should _ . She picked up her wine glass and raised it, as if to toast the deities of recklessness. “If you can get us a bottle of this to go, you might be able to convince me to come with you.”

Plisky smiled again.  _ Fuck _ , but she was gorgeous when she smiled.

“Only one? That’s hardly even a challenge.” One dimple deepened into a smirk. She set her wine glass on the table, “Wait right here,” Plisky said, before turning and heading back to the table where the bar was set up.

Mitchell knew she was sunk when she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sway of hips as Plisky walked away.

She knew there would be no survivors when Plisky left the bar holding two unopened bottles in each hand, smiling like mischief and sunlight.

Anders knew it was going to be a good night when she turned around from the bar, having secured four bottles of wine (they could order more from room service later, but it was a decent start). She took about five steps back to the table, but Xena stood up, drained her wine glass in a few easy gulps and then walked over to meet her.

“That was very well done.” Xena said, gesturing to the bottles of wine, “I’m impressed.”

“This is nothing compared to what else I can do.” Ander said, finishing her words and then letting her tongue curl lasciviously around her teeth in a blatant show of intent.

Xena stepped in close, leaning forward until there was not even the breadth of a finger separating them, but they didn’t touch, “Is that so?”

“Is that another challenge?” Anders asked, staring at the sparkling brown eyes so very close to her own.

Instead of answering Xena just backed away, a bottle in each hand, never breaking eye contact.

Anders smiled. The mind-numbing conference was almost over, Anders would finally be able to off her mark and complete her fucking contract, and best of all, she’d actually get to do something fun that night. There was nothing better than a good fuck to pass the time if she had to wait for a paycheck. “I’m on floor six. Please tell me you’re closer.”

Xena’s smile was like temptation incarnate, wider than anything, sweeter than sugar but lined with something predacious.

“I’m in 304.” She said, then with a wink, she turned and bolted for the door.

Anders grinned, and chased after her. She had a feeling it was going to be a very fun night indeed.

Mitchell reached her room and stepped inside. She opened the door and flipped the deadbolt to prevent it from closing so Plisky would be able to get inside. The suite was a standard King Suite, the walls painted in non-descript muted neutrals, broken up with generic photographs of “scenic landscapes”, and a watercolour in the toilet across from the massive jacuzzi-style bathtub. It had a lovely view of a nearby park and was on the western side of the building so Mitchell didn’t even have to worry about being woken by unwanted sunlight. She placed the wine on the countertop next to the television, and took a moment to breathe. 

Spending a night with Plisky was...a terrible idea. She couldn’t afford to slip- she only had to make it through two more days before she could be off to Russia. This was a job that wasn’t  _ meant _ to end with a dead body.

But Plisky was golden, shining, and unafraid. There was a spark to her that Mitchell couldn’t explain, but she wanted to  _ taste _ it. It wasn’t bloodlust, either. It wasn’t the mindless, gnawing hypnosis of a heartbeat. It was quicksilver and sharp. If Mitchell didn’t know better, she’d say it felt like another vampire, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t anything she’d ever encountered before. Plisky felt like a human, but she also felt like power. Mitchell hadn’t managed to avoid it, and she couldn’t say no when it was offered to her. 

Plisky pushed the door open.

Mitchell knew she was weak.

Anders had found the door to room 304 left invitingly open. She nudged the door open with her hip, hands still filled with wine bottles. Xena stood in the entryway, one bottle already open.

“The only glasses are plastic,” she said, “So I thought we could give ‘em a pass.”

Anders grinned back. “Sounds good to me.”

Xena took a long drink, and stepped back, “You might want to come in and close the door, though.”

“Not interested in getting caught?” Anders asked, even as she flipped the brass latch back to its usual position by the door frame and shut the door firmly behind her.

“Maybe I don’t like to share.” Xena replied, arching a dark eyebrow.

“Aww!” Anders pouted, but the sparkle in her eyes belied the tease, “but sharing is caring!”

“Well I don’t have to give you any.” Xena said, deliberately misunderstanding, and taking another long drink of the wine.

Anders was delighted by the sight of it. Xena tipped her head back as she drank, showing off the delicate, smooth lines of her neck.

“I was the one who got the wine, if you recall.” Anders was giving herself an mental pat on the back. She could manage full sentences in the face of gorgeous women with alcohol. She was  _ awesome _ .

Xena lowered the bottle and wiped her mouth, leaving a darkened smear on the back of her hand. “Sharing is caring,” she parroted.

Anders stepped forward and grabbed the bottle from Xena’s hand, taking a swig. She set the bottle back on the counter then stepped closer, leaving no space between them. Placing her hands on Xena’s shoulders for stability, she rocked forward and sealed their mouths together. She had a brief moment of being absurdly grateful for wearing heels. She’d worn her tallest pair, and it meant that all she needed to do was tilt her head and stretch a bit. Then she stopped thinking about shoes, and more on the wine-drenched mouth moving softly against her own.

Anders slid her hands along the crest of Xena’s collarbone until she could feel the distinctive plastic of buttons. She started slipping them open with practiced ease. She’d only gotten about half of them done when a cool hand reached up and halted her progress. It usually took longer for Anders to get to the room than it did for her to get clothes off, but Xena was proving to be an interesting exception.

Mitchell sunk into the kiss, letting the heat and the motion of it burn all other thoughts from her mind. Her hands drifted to rest on the curve of Pliskys waist, where she could feel the subtle shift of deflating lungs as lips and tongues took precedence over breathing. She’d forgotten about heat of of holding someone close. The only person she touched with any regularity was her ghost flatmate Annie, who always seemed to match the temperature of the house. At one point she’d had a relationship of casual physicality with George, but the platonic intimacy had disintegrated quickly once his girlfriend Nina had moved in. There was life beneath her fingertips, and Mitchell let herself get lost in it. When she registered the buttons on her shirt being undone she pulled away.

“Can we go slow?” Mitchell asked, after a moment, “It’s been awhile for me.”

“How long is a while?”

Mitchell picked the answer that was both true and didn’t involve any actual numbers, “Since I learned how to use a vibrator.” 

“Any chance you have it with you?”

“Uh, it’s...in my bag,” She bit her lip, not willing to make eye contact after that statement, and internally cursed herself for the sudden wave of bashfulness that crept through her. This was not 1902. She was not twelve anymore. She was allowed to have pleasure and to pursue it. It was not shameful to discuss such things.

Plisky beamed, “Right answer,” she said, before leaning in to reward Mitchell with a kiss.

“I can get it,” Mitchell said, as she tried to pull her thoughts away from the past and back to the beautiful woman in front of her, “But, later, yeah?”

It took a blink for Anders to clear her mind of swirling possibilities. A woman willing to admit to her toys always held promise. Then she remembered the conversation they had been having, “Ah. Yeah. Start slow. Fine with me.” She waited a beat to see if there would be any further response. Xena was biting her lip and staring at the wall. That was  _ not _ conducive to good sex. “Wanna make out on the bed for a bit?” Anders suggested.

Xena tore her gaze from the wall, “Yeah, actually,” she said, with genuine surprise colouring her tone, “that would be really good.”

Anders grinned and pulled her towards the bed. When she reached it, however, she sat down and immediately dropped Xena’s hand. She missed the furrowed brow caused by the motion in favour of getting her shoes off as fast as possible. When she’d finally managed to get them unbuckled, she tossed them into a corner carelessly. “I really hate high heels.”

Xena let out a laugh, “I dunno. I kind of like the bit at the end of the day when you take them off and everywhere you step feels like a dent in the floor.”

“Ugh. No. That just means you’ve spent an entire day in heels.”

“But they’re so much better for stepping on the people who are getting in your way”

“And that is why I wear them.” Anders agreed, scooting back onto the bed and reaching out to drag Xena along with her. It took them a moment to get settled, facing each other and leaning against the headboard to stay more-or-less upright. Anders leaned in and brushed their lips together, only for Xena to pull back abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asked.

Xena laughed. She shifted away from the headboard to free her right hand, which she held out.

“Hi,” she said, “My name’s Mitchell.”

This time it was Anders who flinched, her thoughts racing to a different gorgeous, skinny brunette - the one shacking up with her eldest brother. “I’m sorry. You’re name is Michelle?” 

“No. Mi-T-chell. With a ‘T’.” She cocked her head, “Bad luck with ‘Michelle’s?”

Anders made a face. “My brother’s girlfriend.”

“Ahhh.” Mitchell said, with a nod of understanding.

There was a beat.

“And you are…” Mitchell finally prompted, waggling her hand where she held it between them.

“I’m wearing a name tag.” Anders said, sounding incredulous, and gesturing to her shirt.

Mitchell dropped her hand. Her dark brows furrowed in confusion. “No you’re not…?” There’s no way she would have missed Plisky wearing a name tag. For all that she had been pointedly  _ not watching _ … she had definitely been watching. That was a detail that could not have possibly slipped by her. Also, there was clearly no name tag on Pliskys shirt.

Anders looked down in confusion. She’d avoided the tags for the entire convention, but she’d worn one tonight specifically to avoid this situation. But, her shirt was… unaccountably barren of sticker she’d marked her name on that evening. “What?” She flicked open her jacket and… there it was. It must have fallen off of her shirt and adhered to the inside of her jacket at some point.

“Sorry,” Anders said, grabbing the sticker and holding it out. She let Mitchell read it before flicking it to the ground, and giving a ridiculous half-bow. “At your service,” she said, “Can we make out now?”

Mitchell laughed, and settled back against the bed, “That sounds like a very good plan to me.”

Anders settled one hand on the collar of Mitchell's jacket, so her thumb could rest in the hollow where pale throat met prominent collarbones. The other hand slid up into Mitchell’s beautifully curly, dark hair. Anders pressed in slowly, so at first it was just the crush of lips, sliding a bit and just a little sweet from drying gloss applied hours earlier. It was wonderful, she decided. They didn’t have anywhere to be. Well,  _ she _ didn’t have anywhere to be and she couldn’t be fucked to care if she missed any of the conference at this point... and Mitchell was really good with her mouth. Just slick enough; no struggle or push for dominance, simply the soft motion of two people fitting together, tongues sliding across across smooth, even teeth, leaving shivery trails of sensitized nerves. Anders could feel the pressure from Mitchell’s hands as they slid beneath her jacket to run along the curve of her rib cage.

Usually, Anders was the one pushing things forward, keeping forward momentum until clothes were on the floor, intensity translating easily into frantic actions with a clear goal to be reached. There was none of that need present in this moment. Anders was absolutely sure they would get around to… whatever they felt like doing. There was no reason to push this into being anything other than it was; appreciating the feel of another body and the taste of someone else’s mouth. This could last as long as it needed to. Other things would happen in due time.

However, that didn’t mean that Anders didn’t want to feel skin. She slid her hands beneath Mitchell’s jacket, and slowly slipped it down over smooth shoulders, before the fabric bunched, caught against the frame of the bed. Anders pulled away from Mitchell’s mouth. “Off?” She asked.

Mitchell licked her lips and nodded, “Sure. You too?”

Anders leaned back and slipped her jacked off, dropping it unceremoniously into a pile on the floor. She turned back to Mitchell delicately folding her jacket. It was a show worth watching; the clear play of muscle beneath her skin, defined biceps curving gracefully into shoulder, which was surprisingly shadowed with dark, curly hair. 

Anders couldn’t help herself. “You don’t shave?”

Mitchell froze for a moment, before she finished placing her jacket on the side table and turned back. “I shave where people see.” She protested, tense and defensive and she gestured to smooth skin of calves beneath the skirt she was wearing.

“No, no!” Anders said, with an honest smile, “It’s different. I like it. It’ll be fun.” 

Mitchell was frowning, suspicion clear in her eyes.

A thought occurred to Anders, and she leered, “Anywhere else people don’t see?”

Mitchell crossed her arms with a huff, “I didn’t come here to pick people up.”

“No,” Anders said, waggling an eyebrow, “ _ you _ didn’t…”

Mitchell remained unmoved. “If it’s gonna be a problem-”

“How does ‘it’ll be fun’ translate into ‘it’s a problem’?”Anders said. She let Bragi flow into her voice and continued, “Everything will be fine.”

Mitchell frowned. There was something  _ odd _ in Anders voice, some tone that hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t place it, but she filed it away to ponder later. It was hardly worth worrying about at this moment. Instead, she peered skeptically at the woman before her. Anders sat with her arms open, and met her gaze evenly. Mitchell was struck with the absurd thought that maybe it was impossible for someone to lie when they had eyes that blue. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that  _ anyone _ could lie, regardless of if they had gem-clear eyes. However, she didn’t think that Anders was lying now. She gave a nod, “Okay then.”

Anders smiled in return, glad that the moment of tension had been broken. “More making out now? Or more clothes on the floor?”

“Are we not allowed to make out when our clothes are on the floor?” Mitchell asked.

“All of the above is definitely an acceptable answer in this situation.” Anders replied, sliding off the bed to drop every last scrap of clothing onto the ground.

Mitchell forced down a lingering bubble of nerves. She knew how to blend in, when she needed to. She’d watched beauty change for a century. She knew how to play the game. She’s also gotten to the point where sometimes, she just couldn’t be bothered. Like when she was planning for an extraction job that had absolutely no call for seduction. She was frustrated with herself, because she  _ knew _ better. Always plan for the unexpected. Apparently it was a lesson she would have to keep learning. But, Anders had said that she didn’t mind, so Mitchell was willing to take her at her word.

And if Anders was even a fraction as good at anything else as she was at kissing, it would be far more than worth any momentary embarrassments on her part.

By the time she’d gotten her clothes off and folded, Anders was waiting for her on the bed. Mitchell was struck again by the energy that seemed to rest beneath Anders’ skin. She was gorgeous; compact and golden,the light shimmered on her entirely smooth body, giving her skin the look of something nearing pearlescence.. Her short hair was shining in the lamplight, blue eyes sparkling.

There it was. That mischief - Plisky. 

Mitchell grinned at Anders, and pushed her down into the bed. Anders was beautiful. She wasn’t the stick-thin skinny of some, instead wide, smooth curves on a solid, stocky frame. The term ‘small’ didn’t really fit either, though Anders was hardly tall, she seemed to take up space outside of herself; she walked with her head up, her shoulders square and with a sway in her hips She seemed like a nearly endless expanse of flawless, golden skin. Mitchell could tell that Anders wasn’t the type who would ever allow herself to pinned in or held down. This was a woman who would not be caged by circumstance; this was a woman whose eyes held sunshine, but also steel. Anders wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted; there was something hypnotic and luminous about her and Mitchell was finding it intoxicating.

Faced with Anders - this strange, entrancing composition of someone so wholly solid but at the same time ethereal - Mitchell just wanted to touch. 

It started with a kiss - Mitchell didn’t tend to think of herself as stereotypical, but she loved kissing. The heat of lips and teeth, the lingering tingle from tongues curling together and pressing against each other. It was a fire that lit and spread, blooming into a slow heat that lit across Mitchell’s shoulders, settled deep in her chest and seeped down her spine to itch between her thighs. 

And Anders was  _ good _ at kissing.

Mitchell would be the first to admit that it had been a while since she’d had the time to simply indulge in a pre-sex snog, but she was certain that it wasn’t just time that was sending sparks through her veins. The way that Anders slid a fearless tongue across Mitchell’s teeth, flicking across the sensitive roof of her mouth; Mitchell was drunk with it, letting the heat unfurl and the room spin pleasantly as she gave in to the lust.

The flavour of wine had almost entirely faded when Mitchell needed to taste more than Anders’s plisky mouth. She pulled away to follow the soft line of Anders’ jaw, down to the soft hollow of her neck, licking at the sweat that had gathered there. It was the salt of human sweat, and the bite of some kind of perfume and the bitter of soap, but as Mitchell drew the skin into her mouth, sucking, rolling it between her teeth, it faded to the the mellow tang of skin. It was  _ delicious _ . There was something almost spicy to the taste of it, and Mitchell knew she wanted more; wanted everything.

She continued her path down, nipping at the creamy, smooth skin of Anders chest. Every part of her was silken and soft, and Mitchell was entranced by it. She followed the line of Anders sternum, only pausing when Anders let out a whine.

“Want something else?” She asked.

Anders raised an eyebrow and glanced down pointedly at her chest. “I’m pretty sure you missed a spot.”

Mitchell huffed out a laugh. “Deepest apologies.” She returned her mouth to Anders skin, focusing on the petal-soft give of Anders breasts beneath her tongue. It was better than thinking about happiness that was starting to crest in the back of her mind. It had been so long -  _ so long _ \- since she’d been in this position. Naked, with blood thrumming hot in her veins, the lightning feeling sparking between her legs, but more than anything, it wasn’t the hunger. It wasn’t the press for heat and fire and blood. 

It was laughter.

And if Mitchell had let herself think about it, she would have known that laughter was a thousand times more dangerous.

Instead, she gave a playful nip to the rosy tip of Anders pointed nipple and gave herself over to the moment. The pink, stiffened skin of Anders’ nipple was still smooth. Mitchell licked softly at edge of Anders’ areola, and focused in on the texture of it; the smooth, polished-shell feeling of it, the silken, unblemished curves. Every part of Ander’s body felt like living porcelain, warm and soft somehow, despite the flawless, nearly glossy sheen to her skin.

Anders was an engaging distraction, responding beautifully to Mitchell’s attentions, arching shamelessly as Mitchell sucked the entire areola into her mouth. Anders fell back into the pillows, rocking her hips up. Mitchell took the hint and brought a hand up to work at Anders’ other breast, first kneading it with the heel of her hand before moving to delicately pull at the flushed and stiffened nipple. Anders let out a sound that was halfway between a moan and purr. It was light and musical, and Mitchell knew that whatever she did, she needed to hear it again.

Mitchell worked at Anders chest, learning how sharply she needed to bite for Anders to yip, how much suction it took for the light skin to start darkening with bruises, through it all reveling in the warmth of the body beneath her. Anders’s skin was littered with reddening marks, shiny from sweat and saliva. Mitchell pulled back for a moment, simply to take it in. Anders’ eyes were dark, blown wide and glassy with lust, her mouth was red and swollen from kisses, but she still had that plisky fucking smirk.

Mitchell fucking loved it.

“I wanna taste you.” She said, and she could feel her own voice purring out; coming from deep in her chest, rattling out rough with desire.

“Yeah.” Anders panted. “Yeah.”

Mitchell grinned and slid down the bed to settle between Anders thighs. Her legs were smooth and hairless as the rest of her, the silken feeling of her skin continuing all the way down her body. Mitchell could see her slit, flushed pink and glistening with arousal. Mitchell ran her fingers through it, sliding across the slick, soft skin. Anders let out another musical moan, and Mitchell was overcome. 

It was biting, and sharp, her desire. It was hunger, but she didn’t recognize it as such. It wasn’t the the clawing, aching need for blood. It wasn’t the parasitic craving for the heat pulsing beneath through blue veins. Anders was beautiful and golden; graceful, confident and polished. Mitchell had surpassed want. Mitchell  _ needed.  _ Needed to have Anders wrecked on the bed, driven to the point where her quick mind and smart mouth were reduced to nothing more than the addictive sounds she made when Mitchell brought her higher.

Mitchell kept her fingers moving steadily until Anders’ skin was wet enough that the motion was causing slick sounds to fill the air. Anders was panting, pressing into the friction. Her breasts moved with the every breath, and Mitchell wanted to make her  _ scream _ . With a feral grin, Mitchell lowered her mouth to join her hands. Anders arched up into the heat, crying out when Mitchell began to trace circles around the edges of her clit. The sound crested and swamped Mitchell; she never wanted it to end. One hand was pressed to Anders’ pelvis to keep her hips down, and Mitchell lost any thoughts beyond  _ more. _

Anders was salty and just the slightest bit sweet beneath her tongue, soft and sopping, and  _ hot _ , so hot. It was everything that Mitchell hadn’t had in longer than she could remember. She slid two fingers into Anders hot, waiting entrance; the loud, wet noise of it nearly echoing in the small hotel room. Mitchell’s nose was pressed to the smooth skin of Anders mound, breathing in the salty, musky scent of sex. She finally flicked her tongue out, and began to lap at Anders clit. Anders bucked up with a gasping cry, and Mitchell held her down. She pressed the flat of her tongue against the swollen nerves and was rewarded with Plisky’s hands coming down to wind into her hair.

“Oh, oh fuck. Just like that.” Anders’s voice was starting to lose its polished edge, and it burned through Mitchell.

Mitchell kept her rhythm, but hummed in acknowledgment, drawing another musical cry from Anders. Mitchell’s fingers were sopping, dripping across her palm and down her wrist, and she loved it. She pressed her tongue more firmly to Anders clit, lapping circles onto it relishing the feeling of Anders perhorrescing beneath her hands.

Finally Anders broke, shoving her hips up into Mitchell’s mouth. “ _ Fuck _ , fuck. More!”

Mitchell sucked Anders clit into her mouth, humming gently. Anders jerked up against her mouth, but her swearing was losing consonants and turning into open-throated vowels of incoherent pleasure. Mitchell flicked her tongue against the swollen nub in her mouth, and it was mere moments before Anders was crying out, convulsing as her orgasm shook through her. Mitchell held her through it, never letting up as Anders arched and shook, riding the waves of pleasure, drawing out the tides of it. Anders screamed until she ran out of breath, neck stretched, long and beautiful against the crisp white of the hotel sheets, her mouth open, and her eyes open and blank in the tide of unceasing pleasure.

Mitchell didn’t stop until Anders had enough breath back that she could whine at the overstimulation, and the hand in her hair stopped pushing her down for more pressure and instead pulled her up.

Anders was boneless and blissed out. Her grasp was weak from pleasure, but Mitchell was more than happy to follow the direction up. The kiss was sloppy, more pressing open mouths together. There was none of the finesse from earlier, but it didn’t matter. Mitchell was burning. The itch between her thighs had grown into a hot pulsing need, and she was drunk on it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive.

“So that was good?” Mitchell said, and the self-satisfied bravado of it made the words deep and rich, despite the way that they were panted out.

Anders had finally recovered enough to find words. “It was good.” She pressed another kiss to Mitchell’s cherry-red mouth. “Very, very good.” Anders paused, realizing suddenly that Mitchell was rocking against her thigh. A shock of surprise flooded through her. It had truly been a very long time that anyone had gotten her off hard enough that she forgot to return the favour. She grinned. She was going to set Mitchell off like a fucking firework.

After all, it was the least she could do. And Anders  _ always _ made sure to give at least as much as she got.

Anders slid her leg to press more firmly into Mitchell’s rocking.

“Do I get to do something about that?” She asked. Her eyes were shining with equal parts mischievous playfulness and lust, and when she smiled, her dimples were out in full force.

“Yes.” Mitchell said, and her voice had that rough, dark tone that sent a shiver through Anders.

She looked up, eyes dark and hungry. “I want you.”

Anders smiled. “We’re on the same page then. Perfect.” With that, she pushed Mitchell back against the bed and kissed her deeply. Anders could feel it when Mitchell’s breathing started to catch and shudder under the onslaught and she grinned. She was going to defeat the Warrior Princess, and it was going to be wonderful.

It didn’t take long for Anders to realize, though, that Mitchell truly wasn’t like anyone she’d ever had sex with before. Anders had never bedded anyone so eerily quiet before. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Anders to pull women who only had experience with straight sex; who thought they were supposed to sound like girls in porn - nasal and breathy and young. Anders had too, at first. Then she’d learned that it was easier for her to get what she wanted when she sounded like herself. Later she would learn that it was easiest of all if she just sounded like Bragi. 

Anders didn’t consider herself to be overly vocal - she’d done that for a while, and wasn’t averse to being loud if she was in the mood for it - but Mitchell was nearly  _ silent _ . The only noise that she made was her breathing; a soft steady rhythm in the background interrupted by a sharp pant or a stuttering inhale when Anders caught a particularly good angle.

Hair was different, she couldn’t deny that, and Mitchell was hairy everywhere. It started low on Mitchell’s chest, spread across her breasts, and trailed down her stomach. It wasn’t terribly thick, but it was dark and it was  _ there _ , and it was nothing that Anders had ever seen on a woman before.

The biggest surprise had more to do with Mitchell herself than anyone’s hair-removal habits. Mitchell, who was so forward and flirtation in talk, attentive and focused as a lover but so utterly reserved when on the receiving end of touch. Mitchell was so unusual and so exquisitely responsive to even the lightest sensation; sucking in breath to ride out a bite to the collarbone, a hiss forced out through clenched teeth when Anders licked along the bottom of her ribcage.

Anders had slept with countless women, but Mitchell was  _ fascinating _ . Anders had gotten virtually nothing when she’d turned her face to press kisses along the soft skin on the bottom of Mitchell’s breasts. Noticing the lack of response, Anders had turned her attention to Mitchell’s nipples, which were dusted with dark, curling hair, and Anders had to  _ know _ . She’d never had sex with a woman who had body hair before. Anders couldn’t help but be intrigued. Anders knew her way around a woman’s body. She’d slipped Mitchell’s nipple into her mouth, rolled it on her tongue, and pulled off, barely grazing it with her teeth, but she’d gotten nothing from it but Mitchell’s steady breathing. When Anders had bitten along the edge of Mitchell’s hip, Mitchell had nearly shot off the bed, letting out the most audible gasp that Anders had gotten from her all night.

Anders had a brief moment where she was fairly certain she understood why Mitchell had more luck with a vibrator then dating. Anders held a great deal of pride in her ability to pleasure the people she took to bed, but Mitchell took patience. She was too quiet to give audible direction, and her hot spots were far from standard. For Anders, it was a dream; a seductive combination of challenge and reward, playing out the puzzle of Mitchell’s body, watching for hands to clench into the bedsheets and breath to hiss out between teeth. Anders was determined, and she wanted see what it looked like for the warrior princess to fall apart under her touch.

She’d never gone down on an untrimmed woman before - though when she was young she’d gone down on plenty of men who barely seemed to even wash their nether regions, and Mitchell was beyond a doubt more well-groomed than that. It wasn’t terrible, she decided, as she licked into Mitchell’s slick depths. It made for an interesting difference in texture. Anders was hardly jaded about sex, but there it was rare for her to find anything  _ new _ anymore, and she was quickly coming to the conclusion that she loved it. Solving the mystery of Mitchell was making for one of the most engaging nights of sex that she could remember.

Anders paused for a moment, drawing her head up to check on her near-silent bed partner. Mitchell’s eyes were clenched shut, and her mouth was wide open, pulling in air; the white of her teeth contrasting sharply with the red of her mouth. Mitchell’s chest was heaving with the force of her breath. Anders smirked. Mitchell was definitely doing alright.

Lowering her head back between Mitchell’s thighs - pale but covered with dark hair, thickening to the curly thatch at her centre - Anders got back to work. The rich tang of Mitchell’s arousal was thick on her tongue; and Anders  _ loved _ it. She licked in, flicking her tongue in and up, until every centimetre of skin was shiny and wet with saliva and slick and Anders was drenching herself in it. She couldn’t help but moan at the feel of it; the rough catch of course hair contrasting with the smooth glide of wet skin. She placed a hand on Mitchell’s stomach so she could feel the muscles there jump and tense. It was a very different gauge of reaction, but Anders couldn’t deny the appeal. It was visceral and focused. There was nothing meretricious about Mitchell’s responses, they were purely physical and entirely entrancing.

Keeping one hand on Mitchell’s abdomen, Anders returned her mouth to the firm, swollen nub of Mitchell’s clit. Her other hand she slid into Mitchell’s slick entrance, pressing firmly against her hot, wet walls. It came as a complete surprise to her when suddenly Mitchell’s legs jerked in, feet flying from where they’d been planted on the mattress to push at Anders’ ribs. 

Mitchell’s muscles were tensing and siezing as she fought to process the incomprehensible deluge of sensation that was swamping over her. “Ahhh,” Mitchell said, barely pushing the noise over the noise of her harsh breathing, as she arched beautifully into Anders’ mouth, “Ah-Ahnders. Ahnders.”

Mitchell’s mouth was open and she could feel the cries that were caught in her throat; her hips jerking up, muscles tensing and beyond her control when Anders mouth found her clit. The  _ heat _ of it… she’d forgotten. It was fire, licking through her, spreading like sparks in a dry field, bright points coalescing into unstoppable burning. There was a slower, deeper warmth beneath it, building slowly, gathering like bubbles on the bottom of a pot that’s been put on to boil, or the not-quite whistle when the kettle isn’t quite ready yet, building and building, and so, so  _ hot. _ She let out a shuddering gasp when Anders slid two fingers into her slick entrance with a wet noise. The fingers seemed to know exactly how to curl and suddenly, something burned through her, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her mind blanked as she was caught in an unstoppable torrent of pleasure.

Anders just worked her through it, tongue flat against swollen clit as Mitchell’s hips rolled up in to the air and her muscles clenched with the intensity of sensation. She could feel Mitchell’s feet slide across her back as thighs spasmed to try and close against the sides of her face. Mitchell’s breathing had turned to panting that was shaded with the lightest hint of tone; a sweet, high note at the back of it, that Anders wanted to listen to forever. Mitchell’s body arched, pressing forward against Anders’ mouth; and Anders moved with it, sliding her hands to the base of Mitchell’s spine, to draw her closer and support her in the throes of pleasure. 

Anders moaned at the feeling of it, the rush that came from reducing this strange, statuesque creature to the basest instincts of heat and desire. It may have been the vibration that pushed Mitchell over the edge; past the crest of orgasm to swirl at the edge of too much. Or maybe the only thing Mitchell had that was easy to find was her G-spot. Her legs gave another twitch, and her next breath carried with it the softest whimper. Anders pulled her mouth away and eased Mitchell back down to the bed as her body continued to twitch with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Anders slid up and ran a hand through the now-riotously messy dark curls. She bent down and kissed Mitchell gently as she caught her breath back.

Mitchell allowed it for a moment before she pulled back. “What was that.” She asked. Her voice was still breathy from exertion.

“What was what?” Anders asked.

“You - fuck. I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” Mitchell said, and her dark brows had drawn together in confusion.

Anders frowned. It was far too soon to be that tense after an orgasm. Her instinct was to pass it off with a flippant comment, but Mitchell looked like she wouldn’t appreciate it, and Anders wanted to keep Xena in her bed for as long as possible. “When?”

“At the end. You - Is that -” Mitchell frowned. 

Anders had a moment to appreciate just how expressive her face was. It was a bit shocking that someone who could smile like the sun could frown like a thunderstorm. “Do you mean right at the end?”

Mitchell’s eyes flicked up and met hers. “Yes. What…?”

“I probably hit your G-spot.”

Mitchell blinked.

“Your G-spot?” Anders repeated. “Fantastic little thing that makes you go off like a rocket?”

Mitchell frowned again. “My last... girlfriend. She didn’t like penetration much. We didn’t...do that.”

“Ahh.” Anders nodded in understanding. “So, this was the first time…?” Anders couldn’t help the lust that was filing her voice. She was standing on the edge of so many possibilities. Fantasies were flashing through her thoughts. If Mitchell hadn’t known about her G-spot, Anders wanted to know if there was anything  _ else _ she hadn’t known about. What if-

“I want to make you come.” Anders said, eyes sparkling at the prospect.

Mitchell’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. “I - I did?”

“No. I mean. I want you to gush for me.”

“Oh. I can’t - I don’t-”

“No, see, that’s the thing. You probably can. Heaps of women  _ can _ , it’s just that they never have before.”

Mitchell clearly wasn’t convinced.

“Let me try,” Anders insisted, “I can get you there. I promise.”

“You’re awfully confident, aren’t you?”

“It’s a bit of a signature of mine,” Anders acknowledged, pride seeping from her tone.

“Excuse me?”

“I just happen to see it a lot.”

“See what exactly.” Mitchell said, quickly losing enthusiasm with the new direction of conversation. She was no longer the young girl, frightened of the unexplained twinges or the mysterious wetness that she would find. She’d had a century of learning herself. She knew how to perform, she knew what she liked. She was fairly certain that she knew what she could do. She was off balance from Anders’ casual discovery of her own body. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea that Anders - this woman that she’d known for only brief moments, who she would never see again - that this woman would somehow be able to bring her things that she hadn’t even achieved in her time with Josie.

More than that, she was afraid of losing control. If such a brief touch brought her that high, she wasn’t sure how far she should let it go. She’d managed to keep it together so far; it had been bliss, truly, to be able to sink into the sweet, heated physicality that Anders displayed so easily. It was easy to be distracted by the searing edge of pleasure and not focus on the soft press of Anders skin, or the delicate beat of her heart.

Mitchell didn’t often like new things - she couldn’t often afford to trust new things. She was already taking stupid chances. She’d gotten off - so had Anders. She wasn’t sure why that wasn’t enough.

“I just want you to know what you can do.” Anders said. Her voice was thick with that other-sound, somehow roiling and silken.

Mitchell frowned at the tone. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made her uncomfortable.

But trusting her instincts usually ended in dead bodies, so she’d gotten very good at ignoring them.

Mitchell let out a slow breath and then looked at Anders, golden in the warm light of the hotel lamps, open and earnest with sparkling blue eyes and petal-pink mouth. 

Fuck it.

“Okay.” she said, “Let’s try it.” 

What was one more bad decision?

Anders met her eyes, gaze suddenly serious. “If you need to stop, you say, and we stop.”

Mitchell scoffed. “I said yes.” She didn’t want to think about stopping. She didn’t want to think about making decisions. She knew she was probably making the wrong one, and she didn’t want chances to back out on it.

Anders grin lit her face, white teeth and dimples. “Where’s your vibrator?”

Mitchell pouted a moment at the thought of having to move, of putting more space between now and getting to it, but Anders look of anticipation had her rolling off the bed and moving to her bag. She was careful to keep any of the more questionable tools of her trade out of sight as she found the case she kept her toy in. She carefully closed the closet and walked back over to the bed.

Anders grabbed the case from her as soon as it was within reach, and flipped it open. Inside was a simple bullet vibe. It ran on double-A batteries and was attached to the hand control with a thin wire. Apparently Mitchell kept her toys simple, Anders mused, but it would do the trick.

She looked up and saw Mitchell still standing by the bed.

“How about we work up to this.” Anders suggested. “We’ll start with what you know.”

Mitchell nodded. “Yeah, alright,” but she didn’t move.

Anders patted the bed next to her. “I can’t kiss you when you’re all the way over there.”

That got Mitchell moving. “Alright.” She repeated, but this time she sat next to Anders.

Anders didn’t know anything about Mitchell’s past, but she would have put money that she’d come from a conservative background. The way that she would hesitate and then throw herself into things; Anders had seen it before. The ones who had been trained to have a first instinct of guilt. Anders kissed her softly, staying in familiar territory until she felt Mitchell begin to relax from whatever tension she’d gathered up. With a grin, Anders pushed her back against the bed.

“Good?”

Mitchell grinned at her, and the spark was back. “Do your worst.”

Anders caught her up in a biting kiss that left them both breathless, before she once again worked her way down Mitchell’s lean body.

This time Anders had a better idea of where to go, knew to press along the bottom of Mitchell’s ribs, suck bruises into the bones of her hips and press her thumbs into the backs of Mitchell’s knees. 

It took less than two minutes to have Mitchell back to being a writhing mess on the bed - not that anyone was paying attention to time.

Anders eased her fingers off, and Mitchell was caught in the twin pull of feeling bereft at the loss and relief from the barrage of sensation.

It took a moment for Mitchell to be able to pull in enough air to speak. “So that’s…”

“That would be your G-spot.” Anders said. Her smirk was painfully smug, but Mitchell was too keyed up to do anything about it. 

“Fuck.” She said.

Anders grinned. “You ready? It might feel a bit odd at first, but just go with it. It’ll get so good.”

“Or you could stop talking about it and get to it already.” Mitchell said, impatience edging into her voice. 

“As my lady commands.” Anders said. She leaned down and bit down on Mitchell’s clavicle, resulting in a sharp, stuttering breath. “I’ll get to it already.” Anders smiled at the flimsy attempt at a glare that Mitchell tried to send at her. Hardly anything was visible in Mitchell’s eyes apart from the dark heat of lust. Anders felt the excitement rush through her. She wanted to see Mitchell completely undone. She wanted to discover the puzzle pieces that no one else had ever touched. She thumbed on the vibrator and let the hum of its lowest setting fill the room.

She held the bullet for a moment, letting herself get a feeling for the buzz from it, and then she situated herself kneeling solidly between Mitchell’s spread thighs. With one hand she reached down and let her fingers slide through the soft folds of Mitchell’s body, taking a long moment to trace lines up and down. She was still entranced by the novelty of the sensation. The slick smooth of pink skin lined with wiry coils of dark hair. Anders got so lost in it she didn’t notice Mitchell beginning to move against her. Anders did notice when Mitchell managed to tilt her hips enough that Anders fingers slid against her clit. Anders almost laughed, but when she looked up she saw that Mitchell had her fingers twisted into the sheets of the bed and her eyes closed, and realized that Mitchell might not have realized what she was doing either.

Anders grinned. She was Theseus, and she was solving the goddamn labyrinth. With gentle fingers she pushed back the hood, exposing the soft pink nub of her clit. She held the vibrator up to it, so it was barely touching Mitchell’s flesh. Mitchell let out a low, perhorrescing breath that was barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the toy. Anders circled the bud of Mitchell’s nerves, never increasing pressure, just teasing with the lightest hints of sensation, watching as Mitchell responded. When Mitchell’s stomach was moving, drawing in deep rhythmic breaths that matched the rolling of her hips, Anders pulled off completely. 

Mitchell’s eyes fluttered open as she looked down at the loss of stimulation. Anders put her thumb on Mitchell’s clit, and left it there, unmoving, feeling it throb in time with Mitchell’s heartbeat. Mitchell let out a breath that held the hint of a whine in it, but Anders just smiled at her.

“Impatient, aren’t you.” She said.

With another whining sigh, Mitchell flopped back down to the pillows. Anders grinned at the show, but was paying attention to the pulse beneath her thumb. When she was satisfied that Mitchell was far from calm, but definitely nowhere near peaking, she replaced her finger with the vibrator. Anders grinned and she rocked the vibe, swirling in little circles.

Mitchell’s breath caught in her throat, and Anders could hear her struggling not to choke on air. Mitchell’s mouth was open wide in a silent scream and Anders could feel Mitchell’s legs jerk as she fought for purchase on the slick bedding. Mitchell’s hands fisted into the sheets, and her head tipped back. Anders could see the strain playing out in her defined musculature as she tensed at the overwhelming pleasure. She was fucking gorgeous; dark hair sticking to sweat-slick skin. Beautiful and intriguing. Her breathing was barely loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the vibrator. Sometimes it would cut out as she struggled to pull in air, and all that would be left were the endless buzz, and wet, liquid sounds of Mitchell’s arousal. Then, Mitchell would let out a gasp as if she’d just surfaced from being dumped in a river. Anders loved it. All it took was the slightest shift, and Mitchell would be arching up, rocking forward. She was so quiet but so physical. Anders couldn’t think of a better way to spend a night. Grinning wickedly, Anders settled the vibrator more solidly against Mitchell, then dropped her other hand to slide back in and press against Mitchell’s G-spot.

Anders hadn’t taken into account the strength behind the muscles, though. Xena turned out to be an apt name in more ways than one. Mitchell jacknifed up, nearly crashing into Anders with the intensity of the move. Anders dropped the vibe in surprise and somehow managed to get her hands up to catch Mitchell by the shoulders before they knocked their heads together, but it was a close thing.

Mitchell collapsed forward, her forehead landing on Anders shoulder. Anders ran a hand through dark, sweaty, tangled curls. It took a moment for Anders to process her shock from the strength of Mitchell’s reaction. 

She waited until Mitchell’s breathing had steadied a bit before she opened her mouth. “Do you often break noses in bed, or is just me who gets to worry about that?”

Mitchell huffed against Anders shoulder, still panting.

“I just need to know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.”

Mitchell’s words were no louder than breath, slurred out and repeated like a chant. “So good. It’s so good. So, so good.” Mitchell felt like she had lava flowing through her veins, and was so close to catching fire. For once, the pounding of her own heart was louder than the seductive rhythm of fresh blood. Her mind had been blanked in a rush of heat and sensation. There was no space for hunger. There was only the deep, sparking need. She wanted Anders, wanted to be lit up and torn down. She wanted to be ground down and swept away. She’d forgotten the heat of it, rushing, sweeping pull of pleasure, and Mitchell gave herself to it without hesitation, sinking into it and letting herself drown.

Anders preened at the words. “You wanna keep going, then?”

Mitchell bit lightly at Anders shoulder before replying. “Yesss…”

Anders laughed. “Alright then. But- wait. Let’s move a bit, first.” Because nothing killed the mood faster than getting an accidental bloody nose from poor positioning, and Mitchell had… stronger reactions than Anders had anticipated, to say the least.

“Sit up by the headboard.” Anders said, after a moment of contemplation.

Mitchell grinned, still breathless, but moved anyway. She slouched back, and stretched out her arms, letting them rest against the top of the headboard. She looked wanton and open, legs splayed open, and face flushed. “Are you just gonna sit there, or are you gonna show me what you got?” She asked, challenge bright in her eyes.

Anders grinned. “You sure you can take what I’ve got?”

“Only one way to find out.” Mitchell said.

“Fucking right.” Anders said. Xena was turning out to be the most fun that she’d had in ages. Anders congratulated herself. She had such good taste.

Anders grabbed the vibrator again and laid down, flat on her stomach. She settled her arms over Mitchell’s thighs and inched herself close enough that she could lick a stripe up Mitchell’s firm, muscled stomach. “I have to say though, if you try to smash my nose again while I’m down here, I’ll be very upset with you. I happen to like my face, and you nearly broke it.”

“Maybe you should do something more useful with your face then.” Mitchell said back, but her voice was shaking. She could feel the air from Anders voice when she spoke, cool and tantalizing. 

Anders laughed. “I like you.” she said.

“I’d like you more if you fucking got on with it.”

“So pushy!” Anders said in mock outrage.

“Maybe you should do something about that, then.” Mitchell said back.

Anders just nodded. She did have a point. There were better things to be doing than talking. With that, Anders grabbed the vibrator and flicked it back on.

Mitchell shuddered at the mere sound of it, and Anders luxuriated in it. Mitchell was so much stronger than most of the girls that Anders usually slept with, and Anders loved it. Underneath the softness of Mitchell’s body was unbending steel, and Anders reveled in the knowledge that she was the one melting it down. Anders blew lightly, just to watch the way that Mitchell curled and tensed. There was a ripple as she rocked forward, flexing the strong muscles of her legs. The way that her abdominal muscles would tense and strain as Mitchell fought for breath. She went white knuckled with her grip on the headboard, shoulders pulling back and breasts rising into the air. Anders grinned. Not only was Mitchell beautiful, but she kept saying yes. Anders was getting to  _ play _ .

There had been a few moments of hesitation along the way, and it had taken a bit to get the evening going, but every time Anders suggested something, Mitchell agreed. Anders had a warrior princess in the bed, and no limits. It had been a long time since she’d gotten to be creative. Mitchell was turning out to be the best night she’d had in recent memory. Exquisite, agreeable, and  _ surprising _ .

It was more than Anders had ever hoped for. Not to mention that Mitchell tasted amazing. With a grin, Anders set her mouth back against Mitchell’s flushed, wet, folds. Mitchell was rocking thoughtlessly into her mouth, reduced to short, choking breaths. Anders ignored the way the sound of it made her own arousal thrum. Anders licked in, and Mitchell’s head hit the wall with thud. With her free hand, Anders pressed along the line of marks she’d left on Mitchell’s hip.

At first, Anders wasn’t even sure that she’d actually heard a noise, it was short and soft, like a coin being dropped into a fountain; but it was a coin that set off an avalanche. Anders pressed harder against a particularly red bite mark and a soft moan trickled out of MItchell’s slack mouth.

It was beautiful and delicate, husky from concupiscence, and it made Anders burn. She wanted more. Anders kept up her pressure on Xena’s hip, never lost the rhythm of her tongue against wet skin, and pressed the vibrater gently into Mitchell’s slick entrance.

At first Mitchell went quiet again, and Anders thought for a moment that she’d pushed too far. Mitchell let out a shaky exhale, but then a trembling, whining sigh, and Anders was shot through with a spike of lust.

She moved her mouth in counterpoint tempo with the vibrator, pushing and pulling back, licking and sucking at flushed, sensitive skin. It didn’t take long until Mitchell’s every breath lined with pleading, wanton sound. Anders wanted to drown in it. It sounded like the taste of silk, rough, and strong and so 

completely pure. Xena was the least performative woman that Anders thought she’d ever encountered, and it was addicting. Anders wanted to see everything that Mitchell could give, enamoured with each new discovery.

Anders hummed and was swamped with another frisson of lust. 

Mitchell arched up as best she could, but she had no leverage, nowhere to go that Anders wasn’t; caught between wet heat, steady pressure and unceasing vibration. 

“N’ahh, oh, Ahnders, wait, stop stop!”

Anders pulled back immediately, thumbing off the vibrator. “What’s wrong?”

Mitchell flushed red and ducked her head. She opened her mouth and then closed it with a snap. She was panting, but Anders didn’t think that was the reason for her silence.

“I’m pretty sure we were getting there.” Anders said.

Mitchell just shook her head.

“It kind of feels like you’re about to piss yourself.”

Mitchell's head jerked up in surprised. “It what?”

“A lot of women, if they don’t know, they fight against it, ‘cause it feels like you’re gonna piss yourself.”

A look crossed Mitchell’s face that was somewhere between horror and disgust.

“Look. If you don’t want to go for it, that’s fine. I do think we were almost there though.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Then we’ll just leave it there.” Anders said. She had to admit she was a bit disappointed, but she it was far better to quit while ahead. She’d been having fun with Xena. Even if getting her to gush was off the table, there were still other ways to play.

Mitchell stared at the bed in silence for a long time.

“Are you okay?” Anders asked. The last thing she wanted was for Mitchell to get cold feet now.

Dark eyes looked up. “I want to try.”

“You want to try what?”

“The…” Mitchell made a motion with her hand, “The  _ gushing _ thing.”

Anders blinked, then grinned, dimples deep in her golden cheeks. “Are you sure?”

Mitchell glanced down and plucked at the bed sheets. “Yeah. I mean. You say you’re good at it-”

“I am good at it.” Anders cut in with smug confidence dripping from her tone.

“And I want to know.”

“You want to know?”

“What it’s like. I thought…” Mitchell paused. “I thought I knew what I was doing, but I’m starting to think I have a lot learn.”

Anders beamed. Xena was officially the best pull she’d had in years. She leaned forward and caught Mitchell’s mouth in a fierce kiss, pushing just enough to get Mitchell to push back. Anders kept at it until her lungs were starting to burn for air.

“I’d say you know a fair amount.” Anders said, gleeful and panting.

Mitchell looked vaguely dazed from the kiss, then grinned. “You just trying to make me feel better?”

“No.” Anders said honestly. then smiled again. “I don’t lie about good sex.”

“Okay.” Mitchell laughed, “So. Are we going to do this?”

“Absolutely." Anders said, “But I have an idea. What do you say we move this to the bathroom.”

Mitchell blinked. “Because that’s more comfortable than the bed?”

Anders smirked. "I take it you’ve never played with a showerhead before."

Mitchell stared at her. "No, I have definitely not. What?"

"It’s amazing." She held a hand out for Mitchell to take.

"Okay?" Mitchell said, letting Anders haul her off the bed.

Anders kept hold of her hand as they walked into the bathroom. "I’m jealous." She announced when they had both entered. "Mine isn’t nearly this spacious."

Mitchell laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I’m serious. Look at the size of your fucking bathtub. You’ve got jets!"

"As opposed to what?"

Anders huffed and glared. "Not all of us get the king-size suites." 

"Well apparently those people should register sooner if they want nicer rooms." Mitchell replied, though that wasn’t truly fair. When Mitchell had registered for the conference, there had been very little selection left for rooms. It had taken Annie twenty minutes on the phone for Mitchell to have the nicest room that wasn’t  _ quite _ available. Mitchell made a mental note pick up something for Annie on her way back.

"Well. I may not have jets, but I do have a removable shower head, and we all know  _ that’s _ what matters most."

"So you keep saying."

Anders grinned brilliantly. "Hot or cold?"

Mitchell frowned.

"What do you like? Hot water, cold water, something in between?"

Mitchell’s mouth dropped open as she began to truly realize what would be happening. "Hot." She was breathless at the very thought of it. "Hot water is definitely good."

Anders stepped forward into her space and leaned up on her toes to press her mouth to Mitchell’s.

"Any water with you in it is going to be hot." Anders said with a grin, but her voice was low and smokey. 

Mitchell wasn’t sure if it was worth the trouble of responding, so instead she just leaned down and kissed Anders again, pressing against the soft lips that had long since lost the slide of whatever gloss that Anders had put on that morning. Mitchell distantly decided that Plisky was the perfect height for kissing, no shoes. The tile was slowly warming under the heat lamp that came on automatically with the lights. It was just the right amount of difference, Mitchell could lean into the kiss. Anders had to tip her head back, and it was always just enough to sharpen the edge of her jawline, leave her neck bare and inviting. Mitchell slipped her hand up to drift along underneath Plisky’s chin and then settle softly around her neck. Anders hummed, and Mitchell loved it. She could feel the vibration against her lips, in the suction around her tongue, through the palm of her hand.

"You just going to talk about it?" Mitchell said softly, kissing along the line of Ander’s cheekbone. 

"Only if you let me go." Anders said, with her eyes closed, clearly content to let Mitchell have this moment.

Mitchell nipped gently at Anders’ ear. "Are you admitting you’re just all talk then?" 

The next thing she knew she was standing several paces back after an unexpectedly strong shove to the sternum. She subconsciously lifted a hand to rub the sore spot between her breasts.

Anders smiled, and there was something about her look, the spark in her eyes, that struck Mitchell as thrilling, predatory, and utterly tempting. 

"I’ll show you fucking talk." Anders said, smiling at the challenge. "Get in the fucking bath."

Mitchell could feel her pulse between her legs and knew she was so far past any hope of saying no. She was so far past anything that she would ever be able to justify as being a responsible decision. Anders was standing there, golden and grinning and Mitchell  _ wanted _ her. Mitchell wanted everything that Anders could give, wanted to see where Anders could take her. Mitchell was always hungry, always fighting, and Anders was making her  _ forget _ . Anders had bright eyes and clever fingers and a wicked mouth and could drive Mitchell higher than she’d ever been before. She could white out the voices and the fears, until the only thing left was lust and blinding pleasure.

Mitchell got in the bathtub.

Anders watched her with a heated, satisfied look, and a smirk that hinted at the plans in store. She walked to the taps and took the showerhead out of it’s cradle. She smiled when she saw that it was a model that came with adjustable pressure settings. Turning the water on, but keeping the pressure low, she experimented with the different positions, twisting the nozzle to switch between them. When Mitchell was settled in the bottom of basin, Anders put the plug in the bath.

Mitchell raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You said you like to be warm." Anders said, stepping into the basin herself, and kneeling down so her back was to the tap, and she was between Mitchell’s legs.

Mitchell nodded.

"Slide down." Anders instructed, pulling Mitchell’s legs up and not stopping until Mitchell’s ass was settled next to Anders’ knees. Anders stared down at Mitchell. lying open before her. She was beautiful, water getting caught in the hair on her body and glistening. Mitchell’s eyes were dark in the harsh lighting of the bathroom, but she was flushed all the way down her chest. Anders was absolutely entranced. The way that Mitchell’s eyes were darkened with lust, her tanned face and kiss-reddened lips. The contrast of dark, coarse, curling hair against rosy nipples, and continued in a light path down pale skin that never saw the sun. The way that the hair between Mitchell’s thighs was clumping and sticking together as the slick from previous orgasms started to dry. Mitchell who had dark eyes and an honest body, who had never trained herself to fake pleasure. Anders closed her eyes, remembering the taste of her, the strength of her tang. Steam was starting to rise in the air from the showerhead that Anders had settled in the bottom of the bath. She picked it up and set the adjustment to the ‘rainfall’ setting, deciding to start off a bit gently, and work Mitchell up to more intensity.

"If it’s ever too much -"

"Stop trying to back out on me." Mitchell said.

Anders grinned. Xena was steadily working her way to the top of Ander’s list. "Alright. It’ll feel weird. Don’t fight it."

Mitchell nodded. "I will if you ever get on with it."

Anders leaned forward bit down hard on the lowest ridge of Mitchell’ ribs, causing her to arch and gasp. Anders grinned. Sex was always the best way to get snarky people to shut up. She sucked the skin into her mouth, rolling it between her teeth, feeling the way that Mitchell’s chest froze, breath caught at the stimulation. There was a thunk as Mitchell’s head hit the bottom of the tub. Anders took that as the sign she had been waiting for. The water was warm, but nowhere near to steaming. If Mitchell wanted more heat, they could work up to it. The last thing anyone wanted was too much heat applied indelicately to sensitive areas. 

Anders leaned back. With one hand, she held Mitchell open, exposing her red and swollen clit. She started by spraying the water at the tops of Mitchell’s thighs before focusing in. Mitchell’s response to the rushing warmth was another gasp. Anders grinned. It meant that she’d get to work Mitchell back up, wring her out until perhorrescing breath became moans. Anders wondered if she’d be able to get Mitchell to scream. Mitchell’s hips bucked up under the unceasing pressure from the showerhead, and her head was twisting against the bottom of the bathtub. Anders reached behind herself and turned up the pressure from the tap.

Mitchell let out an audible gush of breath. Anders stared, taken in at the play of muscles as Mitchell fought to move. She could feel the strength in Mitchell’s legs as they jerked around her; the coal-dark of her lashes against tanned skin, the white of her teeth. Anders moved the showerhead in gentle circles, never pausing, never letting up as water poured onto the delicate skin between Mitchell’s thighs.

Mitchell couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think of anything beyond the unceasing warmth pressing down on her. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t the harsh buzz of her vibrator. It was an unending rush, warm and wet, sliding around her. It was a pressing at her, pushing at her skin, heavy and thrumming. It was warmer than she could ever remember being, the fire in veins being matched by the temperature of the water. She couldn’t think as lightning shattered through her veins. The steam was curling up her stomach, she could feel the way that water poured over her, soaking her pubic hair and pulling it flat with the force of the pressure. The heat pounded into her thighs, pushing through from simple heat, it burned through her, her skin wasn’t thick enough to keep it in. It bloomed wide, dragging her down, away from thought, away from the future. The only thing that existed was the wet, endless press, the steam and the heat pushing her higher. The heat between her legs prickled and stung and made the rest of her skin feel cold in comparison. She could feel her nipples tighten against the cold mist of water condensing onto her skin. It was more than she could take, the heat, the pressure, the torrential not-quite buzz as water poured onto her.

She could feel the heat bubbling up, coursing through her, she couldn’t get away from it, even as her muscles jerked and shook. She needed air, trying to breath through the pulsing. It the buzzing heat of friction, but it crept up, slow and unstoppable, like lava traveling the path of her veins. Mitchell knew her eyes were closed, but it was all she could do to keep her lungs working. The air was starting to fill with the warm humidity from the shower, and Mitchell could feel herself heating up from the inside out. She didn’t notice when her breathing started to come out as a whine.

Anders knew that Mitchell was ready for more when her breathing turned pitchy, and a thready cry started to make it’s way out of her opened mouth. She smirked as she adjusted the setting. The water pressure increased as the outer ring of the spray cut out, and more water was forced through the middle section of the showerhead. Mitchell arched up, though she had no leverage at all, thrashing against the increased stimulation. Her hips jerked and rolled as her body fought to process the sensation. Anders couldn’t take it. She adjusted her grip on the showerhead, and set it down so that the plastic was resting just below Mitchell’s pubic bone. Mitchell responded with another jerk, then a gasping cry. Her next breath was almost loud enough to be a moan, and Anders knew that the direction of the water was still going where it needed to.

She slipped her newly freed hand in between her own legs. She knew it wouldn’t take long to get herself off. She could take her time later. Now, she needed to take the edge off; quiet her own building need. She had a goal for the evening. Mitchell was beautiful and determined. Anders knew that she would get her own back and then some with every new experience that she could give. Mitchell was a warrior princess and would give as good as she got. Anders was determined that she would get the absolute best. 

Anders was already hot and slick when she pressed two fingers into herself, palm tight against her clit. Her skin was already swollen and flushed. The rising heat of the room, and the way that Mitchell moved around her; so clearly beyond thought, reduced to instinct and sensation. Mitchell’s sighs could barely be heard over the rushing sound of water, but they were the sweetest sound that Anders had ever heard, thrumming through her. She kept only half an eye on the showerhead, focusing on the motion of her arm, the fast, nearly desperate motion of her wrist. Anders was nearly there, when she leaned forward. The angle changed on the showerhead, and Mitchell let out another one of soft, sweet cries. Her voice was so precious, and she sounded like the chime of fine china.

"Ahhh! Ahhnders…"

Anders bit her lip to keep herself quiet. Mitchell’s voice was molten silver, clear and bright in the steaming air. Mitchell shuddered again and let out a whining breath. Anders rode the sound through to her orgasm, rolling her hips against the palm of her hand as sparks shocked through her. She let out a slow breath, and she could feel the imprint of her own teeth in her lip.

Mitchell hadn’t noticed a thing. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open wide in what nearly looked like agony. Her skin was glistening from sweat and steam, but Anders thought that her eyelashes might have been clumped together from something more than water. She was stunning. Anders put a hand on Mitchell’s stomach, just to feel the strength of her. It seemed as though every part of Mitchell was tense and quivering, coiled and caught in Ander’s quest to drive her higher. 

Anders pulled back on the showerhead and once again adjusted the setting. This time, all of the water was forced through the central ring of the showerhead, which wasn’t much bigger than Anders’ thumbnail. Mitchell’s eyes flew open, but Anders could tell she wasn’t truly seeing anything. ‘Breathe through it.’ Anders said, keeping her voice low and soothing. With one hand on the showerhead, she slid her other hand down, through the rush of water and Mitchell’s slick entrance. She smoothed her fingers along the smooth internal passages of Mitchell’s body, luxuriating in the press of muscle around her hand. She pressed up and Mitchell yelped, and the clear bell-tone of it rang through the humid air of the room.

Mitchell rocked up and back, her dark hair swirling and tangling in the growing pool of water around them. One of her heels finally slipped against the bottom of the tub. Her leg curled around Anders as she sought for something, any kind of relief. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to stop or if she wanted it to never end. The pressure that was building, it was more than heat, more than the sparking electricity. It pressed against her, low between her legs, full and heavy. It took every bit of her shredded willpower not to fight it. She bit her lip, determined not to cry out, not to call for it to stop. She thought she couldn't get any higher, but it didn’t stop. It never ended, just kept building, dragging her deeper and deeper, piling more weight into the pool of heat that was threatening to boil over. She could feel herself blinking, but she couldn't see anything, just the multi-coloured sparks of her nerves being overloaded. It was all tipping up, boiling over. 

"Fuck, fuck, Ahhnders!" She couldn’t hold it; heat and weight and pressure burning and building and pressing against her. It was too much to keep in, too much to hold. Her mouth was open, Mitchel knew she didn’t need to breath, but she needed air, need something. Anders slid her fingers around Mitchell’s g-spot one final time, and Mitchell was lost. She was distantly aware that she was whining, but it hardly registered. Mitchell bucked up, and Anders never stopped drawing circles of incomparable pleasure as spasms wracked through Mitchell’s body.

"That’s it." Anders said, warm satisfaction turning her tone to honey. "Just like that. I knew you could do it."

Mitchell’s body was pressing forward and jerking away, completely beyond any sense or control. Her body was lava and lightning. Slow, all-consuming heat, scattering electric sparks, melting her into nothing and short-circuiting whatever was left. The wet heat of the water and the steady press of Anders’ fingers, and she was caught and suspended, held under as tides crashed over her.

"Oh, fuck fuck, Ahnders." It was too much, the white light slipping past the pleasure, the pinch of overstimulation shimmering through the haze. The water stopped, but Anders didn’t, and Mitchell could feel breath sweeping over her, Anders tongue joining her fingers at Mitchell’s entrance, lapping at slick sensitive skin. The wet feeling feeling continued as the pressure seemed to let off beneath Mitchell’s pubic bone. The lava was cooling, leaving only the sharp, cool shock of electricity in it’s wake. Mitchell could feel her limbs jerking as Anders kept pushing. 

"Oh, Ahnders, Ahnders, please…" Mitchell finally managed to push words out. She felt like she had electrical wires for veins and that every piece of her had been overloaded. Her body was beyond her control, fully lost to whatever beautiful, torturous pleasure that Plisky wanted to wring out of her.

Finally,  _ finally _ , Anders seemed satisfied, and the pressure eased off, and Mitchell collapsed back into the warm pool of water in the tub. Anders crawled over her, and Mitchell could see her face was shiny and wet. 

"How was that?"

Mitchell wasn’t entirely sure she could speak. She could still feel her muscles twitching, not sure what to do with themselves in the absence of all-consuming pleasure. "Ahnders…" She managed. It was barely more than a breath, but it was more than she had expected, so Mitchell took it as a win.

Anders leaned down and kissed her. Mitchell let her mouth drop open, and hummed in satiated contentment as Anders licked into her mouth. Anders tasted like salt and musk and Mitchell knew it was the taste of herself. Anders pulled back and shifted her weight so she had a free hand to drag through Mitchell’s hair. It was straight in the current of the water and looked black against the ivory colour of the bathtub.

"You taste amazing."

"I taste like gush?" Mitchell said, giggling.

Anders laughed. "I know I said I was going to fuck your brains out, but usually that’s more metaphorical."

"No, just. Whatever you call it." Mitchell insisted.

"Call what?"

"You said you wanted to make me gush."

"And you did." Anders said, grinning and smug.

"I did. You kissed me though, it tasted like gush."

Anders frowned. "Are you okay?"

Mitchell lifted a lazy hand out of the water with a splash. "I don’t know what you call it."

"Call what?"

Mitchell waved down towards her legs, "Gush. I don’t know. You’re the one who knows all about it."

Anders blinked and then realized what Mitchell was trying to say. She laughed, bright and happy, and it echoed through the bathroom. She leaned down and pressed another kiss to Mitchell’s mouth. "You know," Anders said, "I honestly don’t know what it’s called."

Mitchell stared. "Really?"

Anders frowned and poked at Bragi. It was a truly rare occasion for any word to escape them. After a few moments though, Anders realized that no, she truly didn’t have a word. She grinned at Mitchell, basking in the lassitude that was practically oozing off of her.

Mitchell, the warrior goddess, tall and strong, responsive and sensitive, willing to experiment and utterly unafraid. Not only was she possibly the best night of sex that Anders had ever had, but she was also able to silence Bragi on the matter of words. Anders laughed and kissed Mitchell again, both of them warm from the steam of the bath. 

Mitchell kissed back, slow and slick, lazy from satisfaction. 

When Anders pulled back, she could see the laughter in Mitchell’s dark eyes.

"No words for gush?"

Anders glared and poked her in the stomach. "No. No words for gush."

Mitchell laughed, and her smile was bright and blinding despite her clear weariness.

"Shut up." Anders said. With a groan, Anders hauled herself up and pulled the plug to let the water drain out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her waist before looking down at Mitchell who was still laying bonelessly in the shrinking pool of water. Anders laughed, reaching down to haul her up and out of the tub. "That good, huh?"

Mitchell tipped her head back and gave Anders a calculating look. "I think if you can get us another bottle of wine, by the time we’re done with it, I’ll return the favour."

"I’ll do better than shit conference wine." Anders grinned, "How do you feel about champagne?"

Mitchell grinned, bright and brilliant. "Do your worst."

Neither of them made it to the final day of the conference.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a fandom/acafandom/vaguely-writing-related blog [on tumblr!](http://taupefox59.tumblr.com/)


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